


Nothing Can Come Between Us

by LoversAntiquities



Series: Cursed Wings [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Comeplay, Frottage, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Wing Kink, Wing Oil, Winged Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 17:46:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3456215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoversAntiquities/pseuds/LoversAntiquities
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So tell me ‘bout this ‘magic cure’ of yours.”</p><p>“Do you really want to know that?” Castiel whispered into his ear, nipping playfully at the lobe. “Or would you be more interested in what I dreamt about last night? About us, specifically.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing Can Come Between Us

It wasn't the anticipation stowed away in his gut that woke him from the first uninterrupted sleep he had had in weeks, though it would have been more preferred than his current situation. No, it was the absence of a warm body at his front that stirred him from unconsciousness, the hands that had previously been tangled in the feathery mess sprouting from his back now gone, leaving him alone in the darkness of his bedroom. “Typical,” he hummed to himself, rolling onto his front and burying the side of his face in a pillow. “Couldn’ even wait around…”

On the bedside desk, partially obscured red numbers flashed in the pitch black, blurry from sleep and the wing that was still stretched across the room, feathers raking the dust off the walls. _Wings_ – so that _wasn't_ a lucid dream. The things were still attached to his back, heavy as ever, scattering whatever items he had on his shelves to the floor in his sleep. Now, one was occupied with drawing patterns on the wall, looking utterly dejected. They really _were_ connected to his soul.

They were also incredibly warm too, his un-stretched wing tucked close to his back and draped over his feet beneath the sheets, his bed cozier than ever. Maybe, _just_ maybe, the curse wasn't such a bad thing, especially if it meant he got to stay in his own personal cocoon away from the stark cold of the bunker. Even with the heating unit on full blast, it couldn't chill the perpetually cold air underground, leaving them freezing more often than not. Castiel still wasn't used to it, huddling under blankets for warmth in the early morning hours, even resorting to stealing one of Dean’s robes and an unused pair of sweatpants from one of his drawers. Not that it made much of a difference – no matter how many layers they wore, the cold was still there, aching.

And if the idiot would have actually _stayed_ with him, he would have been able to enjoy actually being warm for once. Instead, Dean was left in his half-sleep state alone, fingers splayed over the empty spot in the bed, humming content murmurs under his breath with every shift under the covers, only vaguely aware he was grinding his half-hard cock into the sheets until he found a groove he could work with, folding his arms under his head and letting his hips build a lazy rhythm against the mattress. Even his wings joined in, pulling in close and fanning out at his sides, feathers rustling at anything that felt good.

Until a hand midway up his back stopped him in his tracks. When had the door opened, anyway? Had that weight over his hips always been there? “You’re enjoying yourself,” a voice whispered in his ear, rough with promise. “I thought you said _we_ would wait until we woke up.”

“Y’weren’t here,” Dean mumbled. Reaching back with one hand, he cupped the meat of Castiel’s thigh and tugged him closer, until he was leaning over him with his lips pressed to the nape of his neck. “Shoulda stayed, ‘s nice ‘n warm under here.”

“I bet it is.” Dean mewled at a particularly hard bite to the juncture of his neck, whining as Castiel sucked a mark there, the possessiveness of it leaving his hips grinding deeper, thrusting back far enough to feel Castiel’s budding erection through the bedding. “Your brother needed me in the library. We’ve found a way to reverse the spell, I thought you should know.”

Dean whimpered into his pillow, wrapping his arms around it and pulling it closer while Castiel ground down against him, hands snaking up and down his flank to come to rest at his hips. “Mm, if it don’t got nothin’ to do with your dick in my ass, then I think it can wait.” He hoped Castiel could understand his muffled words, breath becoming more ragged with every touch, every pass of his fingers against exposed skin until the sheets were shoved to the end of the bed and he was left exposed in full view of the former Angel. “So tell me ‘bout this ‘magic cure’ of yours.”

“Do you really want to know that?” Castiel whispered into his ear, nipping playfully at the lobe. “Or would you be more interested in what I dreamt about last night? About _us_ , specifically.”

“Mm, tell me all ‘bout it.” At the insistence of Castiel’s hands on the tops of his wings, he lifted up to his elbows and knees, those deft fingers circling his nipples with intent, hips thrusting in quick jerks into nothing. “ _Fuck_ , babe, you wearin’ my robe?”

“And nothing under it.” A chuckle. “If it weren’t for the chill, I would much prefer walking around like this all day. Clothing just,” he paused to rub his clothed cock against the cleft of his ass, “gets in the way, don’t you think?”

“’M thinkin’ it’s in the way right _now_. Y’gonna tease me like that all day?” He panted out obscenities at the first real touch of skin there, Castiel pushing the robe open just enough to tease his hole with the head of his cock, already wet with precum; his own spilled more into the growing puddle beneath him at the thought, the _suspense_ of waiting for him to do something, _anything_. “ _Cas_ , c’mon…”

“In time, Dean.” And Castiel pulled off him, just enough to untie the robe and slip it off onto the floor. “Aren’t you interested in my dream?”

“’M interested in a _lot_ of things right now,” he huffed. Briefly, his wings flared out at his sides as Castiel pushed his front down, allowing him to once again wrap his arms around his pillow with his ass in the air, cock hanging thick between his legs, unattended. Those same hands smoothed down his spine and back up, fingers curling around the base of his wings, searching for something. He found it in the shape of four walnut-sized nubs, thumbing there gently, enough to draw out a surprised moan. “What’re you—.”

“Oil glands,” Castiel told him; he could practically _see_ the smug satisfaction on his face. “They’re typically used for grooming, but they also leak when aroused. Can you feel it, Dean?” He dragged a hand through the mess coating his back, dripping down his sides in thick trails. “Feel how _wet_ you are.”

Cursing never got him anywhere. Neither did begging, especially when Castiel began to squeeze said glands, milking enough from him to coat his hands in the substance, palming it over his ass, a finger daring to press against the furl of his hole. “You’re such a _tease_ , man,” Dean panted, wiggling his hips in invitation. “Y’gonna do somethin’ back there? Or just gonna make me wait all day?”

“You’ll wait as long as I tell you.” He nearly jumped away at the nip to his ass cheek, Castiel keeping him still with his hands on his thighs, rubbing his slick in wherever he felt fit. “I dreamt you were spread out for me, just like this,” he started, clearly amused about something. “Every part of you was so inviting, and you let me do whatever I wanted to you. You were especially responsive with my tongue, would you like me to show you?”

He laughed into his pillow; of _course_ he wanted him to. “If it means you’re gonna get this show on the road, then go for it,” he said, trying to hold back the plea in his voice. Castiel ignored him either way, spreading his cheeks and pressing his thumbs into his crack, petting his entrance almost playfully. “C’mon, Cas,” he conceded through a whine. “’M gonna start thinkin’ you just wanna torture me.”

“I have no intentions of torturing you,” Castiel mused, sly. “ _Today_ , at least. Maybe another day when I can lay you out and have you completely.”

“And what’s stoppin’ you now?” He caught Castiel’s gaze over his shoulder, the man looking contemplative, curious. “All you gotta do is ask, y’already got me on my knees.”

His heart fluttered at the smirk he received, Castiel’s tongue peeking out to wet his lips. “Your brother and Kevin are home,” he answered, lowering himself to lave a wet kiss at his tailbone, tongue sneaking lower, “and I would prefer they not hear when I have planned.”

His wings perked up at the mention, fluffing up and spreading wider, exposing the undersides. “I—oh _fuck_ , yeah—did you lock the door, at least?”

“I did.” Dean shuddered at the first touch of lips to his hole, just wet enough to be interesting. “And I also told them I was going to check on you, and to not disturb us.”

“ _Man_ , did you _tell_ them about us?”

He fought back a yelp at Castiel’s hand smacking his ass, hard enough to leave a definite mark. “Sam mentioned something about it being ‘a long time coming.’” Dean groaned, cheeks flushed. “And Dean?”

 _Fuck_. “Yeah?”

“Stop talking.”

Castiel’s mouth on him again had him burying his face in his pillow, fighting with everything to keep himself from moaning. For a man with next to no sexual history, Castiel applied himself with enthusiasm, sucking small kisses into the plump flesh of his ass before centering himself, tonguing his hole in short flicks. “Mm, _fuck_ , just like that, Cas,” he said through a moan. He reached back to run his fingers through Castiel’s hair, pulling him closer, spreading his legs wider in encouragement. “So good, babe, _fuck_.”

“You’re insistent when you’re needy,” Castiel murmured, pausing. One of his hands slid up his body again, toying with his glands again and gathering up the growing slick in his palm before pulling his mouth away, swiping two fingers down his cleft and slapping there, just enough to have him jerking away and panting. “Do you know what else I dreamt?”

What else _was_ there? Rimming hadn’t exactly been on his top list of possible wet dream topics, and the mere thought of whatever _else_ he could have come up with left his toes curling. “Got a feelin’ you’re gonna tell me,” he breathed, rising back up to his elbows, wings flared in some sort of dare.

Whatever _that_ meant, Castiel wasn't inclined to tell. “An Angel’s wings are… incredibly sensitive along the innermost feathers. It’s the reason you’re showing them to me, they want me to _touch_ them.” Another slap of his fingers and a lick between them, and Castiel continued, “Do you want that, Dean?”

That sounded like the best idea in the _world_. “If you _don't_ , then we’re ‘bout to have a _problem_.”

“So persistent.” At least with the next smack, he had been anticipating it, bracing himself and exhaling a jagged moan. “Turn over, hands above your head.”

“Startin’ to like it like this though,” he protested, halfhearted. Castiel obviously found it amusing, palming his cheeks with a smirk before helping him to flip onto his back, careful to not crush his wings in their awkward shuffle, tossing the pillow to the side. Those same hands slid down his thighs from his knees and stroked long and gentle up his torso, through the mess of wing oil that had dripped there earlier, thumbing his nipples with it and rolling them to sharp peaks between his fingers. “You gonna kiss me, Cas?” he panted, running his hands up Castiel’s thighs, towards his straining erection, precum beading over just from watching. “C’mon, _kiss me_.”

“I was thinking about it,” Castiel pondered, lapping at his nipple with eyes upturned, clearly pleased with himself. “But I was thinking about doing something else, instead.”

His retort was cut off by Castiel moving to straddle his waist, pressing his hips down to slide their cocks together, messy between their stomachs. “You’re gonna drive me crazy li— _whoa_!” His wings were the first to react to the first stroke of Castiel’s fingers through the innermost coverts, hips arching up hard. “Th’fuck’re you—.”

“I told you before, wings are sensitive.” He pressed a kiss to a feather before sucking it into his mouth, Dean gasping a harsh moan into the air. “Where I’m touching? I can bring you to orgasm if I apply enough pressure. _Repeatedly_.” He pulled off to speak close to his ear, breath hot on his skin. “I can _wreck_ you with just a touch, Dean. Do you even _know_ what I can do to you?”

 _Whatever you’re gonna do, do it quick_. Castiel’s kiss and the languid roll of his hips threw whatever thoughts he was having to the wayside, Dean reaching up to grip his hair tight and tug him closer, lips slotting together in a mess of tongues and warm pants. Faintly, he could feel the light scratch of fingers through his wings, ruffling them in the wrong direction before smoothing them back into place, the treatment overshadowed by the occasional sharp jerk on individual feathers, jolting curt moans into Castiel’s mouth.

His reprieve came in the form of a series of sloppy kisses being pressed down his neck, only to have those lips on his wings again, sucking wet at the feathers closest to his body. “This— _fuck_ —this what your Angel buddies do too?”

Castiel pulled off long enough speak, snaking one hand behind Dean’s back and tugging at his glands again, earning a surprised shout. “We were forbidden from committing this act with one another,” he breathed, mouthing at the sodden feathers. “Though, that didn’t stop some of us.”

So _that_ was it. “Gettin’ kinky with your friends?— _Shit_ , right there,” Dean moaned, throwing his head back. “ _Shit_ , that’s so _good_ , Cas…”

“You’re beautiful when you moan my name.” Smug son of a _bitch_. “I bet you look even better when you come.”

“You’re ‘bout to find out,” he panted. He reached down to palm both their cocks, soaked and slick between them, Castiel catching his hand and pinning it above his head in retaliation. Dean sneered. “That how you wanna play? Wanna hold me down and use me?”

“Possibly.” Castiel looked more intrigued than anything, eyes half lidded, a grin teasing kiss-bitten lips. “Though, I’m more interested in seeing how many times you can come.”

“…What?” Castiel’s reply came in the form of his free hand grabbing a fistful of feathers tight and _squeezing_ , not enough to be painful, but enough to have his toes curling into the sheets, cock twitching desperately in need. His friend was doing him no favors either, keeping his hips far enough away to be intentionally frustrating, forcing pleading whines from parted lips. “ _C’mon_ , Cas, y’gotta—.”

“You can come, just like this,” Castiel hissed in his ear, moving to suck a mark beneath it. “Can you feel it, inside you? You feel wonderful, Dean. You should see yourself, on the brink of orgasm, _desperate_ for release.” Dean felt the bastard _smile_. “Come for me, Dean. _Come_.”

No force on earth could have stopped him from following the order then, balls drawn up tight before his body, his _wings_ , seized, back bowing in a sharp bow while Castiel shoved both hands into his feathers, working him through his orgasm, unintelligible noises escaping when he finally spilled white across his belly, a drop reaching his neck. “Beautiful, so _beautiful_ , Dean,” he heard Castiel murmuring once he came back to himself, mouth lapping away his release, tongue dangerously close to his cock. He was still _hard_ – _how_?

He could barely breathe, heart still hammering in his chest, and he wanted _more_. “ _Fuck_ , what’re you doin’ to me,” he gasped. With one hand he pulled Castiel up to his mouth, licking at the taste of his own cum before pulling back, breathless. “C’mon, want you to fuck me, Cas, get your cock in me, _come_ in me, make me _feel_ it.”

Castiel kissed him a final time, brushing his feathers straight. “Get on your stomach. Lift your hips for me.”

On shaky limbs Dean managed to roll himself over, wings still trembling from their earlier treatment, still as fluffy as ever. “Gotta tell me why they’re doin’ that,” he slurred once he was back in position, his chest pressed to the bed with his arms stretched to the headboard and ass in the air, legs spread. “Got me so _hard_ , babe—.”

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to see you like this,” Castiel murmured, soft, hands gathering the slick from his back again, dropping it into the cleft of his ass. He wasted no time in getting to the point, pressing an oil-slicked finger past his rim and crooking it, fingering his prostate with no sympathy. Dean groaned and fell into it, the ruthlessness of it, cock spilling fresh precum into the already soaked sheets. He could come again like this, a second finger shoving him back towards the edge in no time flat. Castiel stopped briefly, long enough to milk more oil from him and return his fingers, three now, into his heat, stretching him wide. “So eager, so _ready_ for this, for _me_.”

There was the barest of pauses between Castiel removing his fingers and pressing the head of his cock to his hole, Dean shuddering out a moan at him pushing in, sheathing himself and draping over his pliant body, hands sliding up the bones of his wings before gripping tight. “When you asked if I wanted to use you, I do,” Castiel whispered to him, scheming. “I dreamt of pinning you down and riding you until you were begging me to stop. I dreamt of coming in your wings, _claiming_ you.”

 _Fucking hell, Cas_. “Claim me, mark me, just fuckin’ _move_ , man,” he pleaded, scrabbling at the sheets, _anything_ to keep him rooted, to keep from _screaming_.

Castiel wasted no time pulling back and shoving into him, nearly propelling him up the bed with the force of it, using the wings as an anchor. _Handlebars_ , he mused, biting hold of the sheets and grunting, wild with it, with _this_. Castiel pulled him back with each thrust until they settled a rhythm, Dean bucking back onto his hips and Castiel taking the time to card through his feathers every other shove. “ _Fuck_ ,” he panted, pushing up enough to get one arm under himself and stroke his cock, thick and warm in his grasp, so _wet_. “So _close_ , _close_ —oh _shit_ , _fuck me_ , _fuck—_.”

The second orgasm had him whiting out, muffling a groan into the mattress as he came hot in his fist, Castiel fucking him even harder, the pressure to his prostate almost punishing, cock twitching in hot spasms. “ _Fuck_ , keep fucking me, _fuck me_ , come in me, _Cas_ ,” he chanted, dropping his hand to the sheets and allowing himself to _feel_ , revel in the sensation of Castiel inside him, growing more vocal as the seconds passed, the wet sound of skin slapping skin echoing in his ears.

And all too abrupt, he felt Castiel pull out, only to shove him into the sheets in a feathery lump and move to straddle his waist again, knees pinning his twitching wings down. As uncomfortable as it was, he moaned, reaching back with his cum-soaked hand to clutch at Castiel’s ass, urging him closer, _begging_ him. “Mark me, Cas, fuck your cum into me, _c’mon_.”

The sound of Castiel jerking himself off above him shouldn't have turned him on even more, flexing his hips into the sheets to the noise, until he heard his own name being moaned and a splash of warmth seeping into the feathers of his right wing, Castiel rubbing it in as soon as his breathing returned to some semblance of normalcy. With that, his wings calmed from their frantic jerks, settling at his sides in an exhausted heap.

Castiel followed their lead and flopped down onto one, Dean struggling to jerk away before giving up. It was no use anyway; he might as well lie there in the afterglow with someone he actually cared about at his side, rather than packing their things and leaving without a word. “’M startin’ to think getting pricked by that thing was the best thing _ever_ ,” Dean said, voice thick with fatigue.

“I’m regretting that we have to change you back soon.” Castiel finally moved off his wing and tucked himself beneath it, Dean pulling him into the warmth beneath the shadow of feathers and pressing a light kiss to his lips. “There’s a blood spell that involves burning the feather that cursed you.”

“Sammy should have it somewhere,” Dean yawned. “Mm, Cas?”

Castiel nestled closer, Dean resting his head under his chin. “Yes, Dean?”

“’S there any time limit on when that spell needs to be done?”

“It might wear off tomorrow, but we can’t take any chances. We don't know if it’s permanent or not.”

He sighed and brought an arm around Castiel’s waist, pressing them flush. They both needed a shower, and his wings probably needed another cleaning. But for now, he settled for listening to his friend’s calming heartbeat and feeling nimble fingers dance through his lax feathers, draped over them both. “Good,” he sighed. “’M gonna take a nap, ‘n when I wake up, I want you to still be here. Okay?”

He felt Castiel laugh, kissing his forehead. “I’ll stay. For you, I’ll stay.”

**Author's Note:**

> I told you I was gonna write a part two! I started this as a cure to my recent chapter of White Lightning, so have some wing kink. Enjoy!
> 
> Title is from the Sade song.
> 
> I'm on [tumblr](http://tragidean.tumblr.com) and [twitter](http://twitter.com/loversantiquity).
> 
> Edit: Lovely ECKC member feminist-fairy did a wonderful fanart for this fic [here](http://feminist-fairy.tumblr.com/post/113447726884)! Go show her some love!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [(art for) Nothing Can Come Between Us](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4481972) by [featherfluff](https://archiveofourown.org/users/featherfluff/pseuds/featherfluff)




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